


Redux

by amycooper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergent after 12x22, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, Hurt!Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, everyone in the bunker has PTSD and deals with it on some level, so emotional hurt/comfort for everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amycooper/pseuds/amycooper
Summary: After being tortured by AU Micheal's soldiers, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Rowena help Gabriel recover while wrestling with their own traumas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Then**

 

Lucifer tried to hide his nervousness.  It isn’t like teaming up with Michael, this Michael, was the smartest thing to do but he was out of options.  This was his best chance to get back to his own world and to his son. Sure, Michael was bound to betray him, just as he’d inevitably betray Michael if given an opening, but if he had Jack on his side, it won’t matter.  He’ll win and then he’d be able to remake the world as he wants it.

 

Michael, for his part, was busy giving orders.  The pair had made it back to one of Michael’s strongholds to prepare the spell.  Michael didn’t seem to have much difficulty obtaining the ingredients. Most of it was on hand.  The blood of a most holy man was apparently the only thing they needed to find, but Michael seemed confident that it wouldn’t take long.

 

Lucifer paced slowly.  The building was once a prison of some sort, all blunt concrete and harsh steel, the colors pale, muddy, and blurring.  The room they were in was once the prison library and there were still a few books scattered about or stacked in the corners.  Long tables, probably pulled from the cafeteria, lined up across the room and were littered with warplans and various debris. He wasn’t allowed to explore beyond the room and since Michael could kill him without breaking a sweat, Lucifer wasn’t willing to push it, yet.  But once he had Jack…

 

“And there’s our most holy man,” Michael said with a broad, unnerving grin as a man was ushered in, flanked by two angels.  “Extract the blood and place him in a cell.”

 

The man started to recite a frantic prayer as the led him back out.  

 

“Planning on keeping him?” Lucifer said.

 

“Of course.  I can’t rule two worlds without a way from one to the other whenever I want,” Michael gave a confident smirk.  It was jarring.

 

One of the angels came back with a vial of blood.  Michael took it and cleared off a table by pushing everything off in one sweep.  He set the vial down, then fetched a bowl and the remaining ingredients.

 

All except the archangel grace of course.  This was the part Lucifer had been dreading.  After all, what were the chances that Michael would use his own?  Lucifer couldn’t help but take a step back, even if this was a sacrifice he’d already decided to make.

 

Michael gave him a predatory grin.  “Something wrong, brother?” There was something mocking in his pronunciation of brother.

 

Lucifer took a step forward.  “No, just ah, do it quickly.” He closed his eyes only to be met by Michael’s laughter.  Lucifer opened one eye, then the other.

 

“If we’re going to invade together, I need you at full strength, Lu.” Michael said.  “Bring him in.”

 

And with that, another two angels dragged in the shackled corpse of their brother, Gabriel, eyes still staring up lifelessly.

 

“Yeah, good job restraining the corpse.”  Lucifer snarked. “I was real worried Gabe would kick our asses but I see you’ve got this all under control.”

 

“I do,” Michael grinned again.  “You see, I have this.” 

 

Michael walked over to another table and lifted a tablet.

 

“Is that...That’s the angel tablet.” Lucifer took a few steps over.

 

“That it is.  Have you never studied it in your world?”

 

“No, it was destroyed.” 

 

“Shame.  You see, you can learn a lot from the tablet if you have a prophet to devote to reading it.  Including how to raise our own kind. How else do you think I keep up my troop numbers after eight years of brutal warfare?”

 

Lucifer raised his eyebrows.  “I see.”

 

“Most of the ingredients aren’t too hard to find,” Michael sad, taking a jar off the shelf.  “In fact, we keep most of it premixed and ready to go. Michael poured the contents into a bowl, then dropped in the Seal of Solomon in.  As Michael recited the words to the spell, Lucifer glanced between Gabriel and Michael. Just as the last words are spoken, Gabriel began to glow.  The wound on his chest disappeared and he heaved in a breath of air. Gabriel instinctively started to push himself up then paused halfway up as he noticed the shackles inscribed in Enochian, then took in his surroundings.

 

“Welcome back, little brother,” Michael said as he approaches and then, without warning kicked Gabriel hard, sending him rolling.  Michael followed, stomping hard on his leg. “I’m so glad you can join us.”

 

“Well, it’s not a party without-” Gabriel’s next words were cut off by his own scream as Michael kicked him again.  Then he pulled Gabriel up by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Gabriel blinked through the blood on his face and looks toward Lucifer in desperation.  Lucifer gave him a faux shrug of sympathy. “Sorry man, but it looks like you’re the cancer to be stamped out now.”

 

“Oh no,” Michael said with a glint in his eyes.  “They’ll be no end to the pain Gabriel’s going to endure.  As I said, I’d like to keep the ingredients I’ll need, indefinitely. I’ll be milking your grace for eternity, little brother.”

**Now**

 

Ketch was proud to be picked to join the team storming one of Michael’s remaining strongholds.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t helped take down others in the past, ever since Michael's death in Ketch’s original universe at the hands of the Winchesters, the humans had made steady gains in their war against the angels.  Intel had it that the power vacuum left by Michael led to infighting among the angels, the two main factions being between someone named Naomi and Metatron, though smaller fractions had splintered off, including one led by Samandriel, who had formed an uneasy alliance with the humans.  The number of angels still loyal to and awaiting Michael’s never to come return was ever dwindling, by both desertion and angel-killing bullets.

 

Ketch gave Charlie a curt nod as they stalked carefully through the hall.  This was Michael’s last remaining stronghold, the last few angels who attempted to carry on Michael’s commands, the last few angels to disbelieve his death.  They believed resistance had weakened since Metatron’s forces tried to take it two weeks ago, but the fight was harder than expected. Their were more angelic soldiers holding the fort than they originally expected.  But still, the resistance forces continued to make gains. And from what they understood about the building’s layout, they were just paces away from Michael’s inner sanctum, the former prison library.

 

The pair paused at the door.  All around them they could hear gunfire, but perhaps once they take this room, they’d have the advantage.  Ketch looked across to Charlie, than back the Joe, Mia, Buck, and Maria. They’d ate, fought, slept and bled together.  They no longer needed words to communicate. They moved into the room as one.

 

There were six in the room, but they had the element of surprise, but that’s not to say they’re guard wasn’t up. But within seconds it was over.  Joe was on the ground and Maria, clutching a bleeding shoulder checked for a pulse, then slowly shook her head.

 

“Well,” Ketch said, surveying the room while Buck went over to help Maria.  “What do we have here?”

 

“This certainly looks familiar,” Charlie said, indicating one of the tables.

 

Ketch stepped over and nodded.  “This must be where Michael and Lucifer came over from.”

 

“To bad we don’t have any archangels left, otherwise we’d be able to pop over and visit,” Charlie said, as they fell into position.  They intended to hold the room, either until the fighting stopped or they did.

 

***

 

Later, when the echoing gunfire lessened to sporadic bursts then stopped altogether, Mary check in on them.

 

“Good work you guys,” Mary said.

 

“Yes,” Ketch said, distractedly as he looked through the contents of one of the rooms cabinets.  Charlie, who was going through a large stack of notes, was too absorbed to even partake in the conversation.

 

“What is this place?”  Mary asked. She steps further into the room, curious at what’s so absorbing to her friends.

 

“Good question,” Ketch said, pulling out two vials of what looks suspiciously like angel grace.  “It appears Michael or his forces used this room to plan attacks and do spells. Charlie and I found what we believe to be the angel tablet.  Charlie’s going over the prophet’s notes now.”

 

The two looked over to Charlie, whose eyes were wide open in shock.

 

“What is it?”

 

“They were bring them back,” Charlie looked up.

 

“You lost me,” Mary said.

 

“The angels.  They were resurrecting them.  No wonder it felt like we never made any progress.  Once they were killed, they could just bring them right back.”  Charlie held up the page she was reading.

 

“Ah, it’s starting to make sense now,” Ketch said as he took a step towards her.  “An angel resurrection spell.”

 

Mary took the page from Charlie and began scanning it.  “So after every battle we fought, they’d just collect their dead and resurrect them.”

 

“And once Michael was dead and the infighting between the angels began, only Michael’s followers had access to the spell,” Ketch said.

 

“And that’s also why this battle was harder than we anticipated.  Given Metatron’s attack two weeks ago, we anticipated they’d be far weaker than they were.”  Mary said. “If it weren’t for Jack freeing the prisoners in the east wing and Bobby arming them, we might not have made it.”

 

“But once Metatron’s forces know we have the spell, they’ll attack again.”  Charlie said. “They’ll all be after this. We need to destroy it.”

 

Ketch wandered to another table, which held a bowl, and most of the ingredients to open the rift.  “If only we had a way to send it over to Dean and Sam.” He looked thoughtful and eyed the cabinet with the grace vials.

 

Mary nodded.  “The one world has too many angels and the other has too few angels but doesn’t-”

 

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Came a voice from the door.

 

“Yes Luke?”  Mary and the others turned to the younger resistance member.

 

“Jack wants you and Ketch downstairs.  There's someone in one of the isolation cells he wants you to see.”

 

All three followed Luke down the stairs and to another wing of the prison.  Jack and Bobby were standing just outside a cell. Apparently they were arguing about something.  The door was open and Jack kept glancing in with a concerned look. He waited until they approached and pointed to the cell.  Ketch and Mary gave him a curious look before peaking inside.

 

The room was filthy.  It was bare except a slab which bedding once lay on, a metal toilet and a narrow window.  Once white, the concrete walls were now gray and covered in mold. The gray floor splotched with rust-brown dried blood.  A figure was huddled in the corner, his head down against his knees.

 

“Who is-”

 

“Gabriel,” Ketch said before she could finish.  He turned to Mary. “Our Gabriel.”

 

“My uncle,” Jack added.

 

“Are you all crazy?  I keep telling the boy that the Winchesters saw Michael kill him.  There ain’t no way,” Bobby said.

 

“Actually that’s not entirely true,” Charlie said, and explained her findings to Bobby.

 

“We need to destroy that tablet,” Bobby said.

 

“Or better yet, we can bring it to my universe,” Mary said.  “We have everything we need, right?”

 

“Probably,” Ketch said thoughtfully.  “I suspect they’ve been taking his grace.  I found two vials of it in the library. I’m willing to wager one of the prisoners is the most holy man.  There was some fruit of the tree of life and the seal of solomon in the library as well.”

 

“We can go through, bring Gabriel back home and give my boys the tablet,” Mary said.

 

“If we can get him out of there,” Bobby said.

 

“Hm,” Ketch hummed.  He started pulling his weapons out and handing them over to Luke.  “I’ve taken him out of one cell, I can take him out another.” He paused and added as an afterthought, “perhaps a bit less roughly this time.”

 

“I’ll find this most holy man,” Charlie said.  

 

“I’ll help,” Jack said.  “I think I might be able to sense him.”

 

“I’ll get the rest of the ingredients,” Mary said.  Bobby moved to follow her, but paused.

 

“Well, I guess we’re opening an inter-dimensional rift,” Bobby said.  “You’ll be okay alone with him?” Bobby eyed Gabriel. He still didn’t trust angels, not even Gabriel, at least not entirely.

 

“Yes, in fact it’s preferable you leave,” Ketch said.  “He’s scared so the fewer people around the better. I just hope he remembers how I saved him the first time.”  

 

Bobby made a little humph and followed after Mary, leaving Ketch alone with the archangel.

  


***

 

Ketch took a slow step into the cell.  “Now then.”

 

Gabriel didn’t move.

 

“I admit, this situation isn’t exactly playing to my strengths, but perhaps you’ll remember the last time we met under similar circumstances I delivered you to the Winchesters.  I intend to do the same now.”

 

He waited but got no response from Gabriel.  He gave an impatient sigh then took a breath and forced himself to walk slowly towards the archangel.  When he was only a couple feet away, he squatted down, careful not to touch any of the filth around him.  Ketch oozed confidence before, but he was at a loss at how to handle this. Months ago he half-dragged the archangel out of Asmodeus’ cage, being too concerned with escaping and new to his own redemption that he was not at all concerned with putting his new terrified charge at ease.  Things were different now but kindness still didn’t come easily to him.

 

“Do you remember me?” Ketch asked.  He wasn’t entirely surprised when his words failed to get a response.  Gabriel shivered whether from the cold or because he was expecting a blow, Ketch didn’t know.

 

“I haven’t come to hurt you,” Ketch said.  “Do you remember the Winchesters? Sam and Dean?”

 

Gabriel stilled, for a moment.  Still, it was a response.

 

“I’m going to take you back to Sam and Dean,” Ketch said.  “But I need you to stand up.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Ketch grabbed hold of Gabriel and pulled him up.  The archangel was compliant, at least, but kept looking down at the ground.

 

Ketch snapped his fingers in front of Gabriel’s face.  He lurched back, but his eyes-finally-were focused on the British man.  

 

“Gabriel.  I’m taking you home.”


	2. Chapter 2

A full stomach and the gentle rhythm of the road had lulled Sam to sleep during the first hour of the drive.  The two had just finished a pretty open and shut vampire case up in North Dakota which gave them the perfect excuse to drop by for a visit with Jody and the girls.  They left the house with as much pork roast and mash potatoes as they could guilt Jody into giving them. Blinking awake, Sam could see the sign for Sloan against a sky streaked with crimson and gold, so he knew he wasn’t out for long.  He cleared his throat, straightened up, and glanced over to Dean.

 

Their visit to Jody did Dean well.  Neither of them were exactly pleased with Cas going back to heaven.  They understood that they needed every angel they could to try to keep the lights on up there, but they both missed him and Dean had been cranky ever since Cas disappeared in the sandbox.  After a few days of heavier than normal drinking, Dean started pulling the two on every case he could find. For the first time, Sam saw Dean relax a little at Jody, even laugh. He made a mental not to get the two of them back there soon.

 

After a glance over to Sam, Dean silently turned on the radio.  

 

“Claire’s getting pretty good,” Sam said.  She had told them all about her last case in that proud but pretending she’s not way that she often had.

 

Dean gave a grunt of agreement.  

 

Ah, back to silent and broody.  That good mood didn’t last long.  Sam thought with a sigh as he looked out the window.  Maybe if they-

 

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted when Dean’s phone rang.

 

“Huh,” Dean turned down the radio and picked up the phone, “Yeah?”  Then, after a pause, “Ketch?” 

 

Dean put it on speaker phone.

 

“Good to hear your voice too, Dean,” came Ketch’s unmistakable crisp British accent.

 

“No offense, but how the hell did you get back here,” Dean said.  “Last time I checked, you were fresh out of archangels.”

 

“Yes, well about that.  It seems that wasn’t quite so.”

 

The two brothers glanced at each other.  

 

“And…?” Dean said.

 

“It seems that the angel tablet has a spell for resurrecting angels,” Ketch explained.  “But before I get into it, how far are you from Broken Bow, Nebraska? I only have twenty-three hours, so time is of the essence.”

 

“Four, maybe four and a half hours,” Sam said.

 

“Ah, is that Sam?  Good to hear your voice old chap.”  Ketch said. “I’m at a petrol station a few miles south of town.”

 

“Alright, we’re headed your way.  Now what’s up?” Dean asked.

 

The two boys listened in silence as Ketch explained the situation.

 

***

 

By the time they pulled into the gas station the sky had grown dark but the full moon shone brightly.  Ketch was waiting for them.

 

“Where’s Gabe?”  Sam asked as the two got out of the car.

 

“I left him about a mile down the road,” Ketch said, getting in the back seat.  “He wasn’t up for the walk and quite frankly given the state he is in he’d raise too many questions if anyone saw him.”

 

Sam and Dean gave each other a look and got back in the car.

 

“As far as we can tell, Michael’s forces had been torturing him and draining his grace for months, likely under Michael’s orders,” Ketch explained.  Then he pulled something out of his pack, wrapped in cloth. “We thought it best we return him to you, along with this.”

 

“The angel tablet,” Sam said, taking it from him.

 

“Yes, with this you’ll be able to resurrect as many angels as you may need to restore heaven whereas we will be able to make some progress pushing angels off of our Earth.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows at how quickly the alternative world had become home for Ketch.  But then again, he supposed an apocalypse Earth with its constant battles allowed Ketch to channel his talents in an acceptable way.  

 

“I have the prophet’s notes too and-oh, pull over here won’t you?”

Sam accepted the angel tablet’s notes and translations while Dean pulled over by a strip of trees that marked the border between two fields.  

 

“As I said, he’s not in the best condition so I thought it best to keep him somewhat sheltered and out of sight," Ketch said as he exited the Impala.

 

Sam and Dean followed Ketch along the edge of the field for couple hundred feet before the Englishman ducked into the treeline.  The boys followed and found a tarp set up as a quick tent underneath a big old Ohio Buckeye tree, which served as a good marker among the River Birch.

 

"He’s in the tent, but I must warn you, he’s in a similar state as he was the last time I rescued him,” Ketch said.

 

Dean gave Sam an uncertain look.  Sam squatted and looked into the tent.

 

Gabriel was disheveled.  His hair unkempt and hanging into his face.  The leather jacket he wore when they last saw him was gone, but he still had on the same shirt and pants, which were in tatters.  He was curled up in a ball at the far end and hugging his knees. When Sam came in, he hid his eyes behind his knees and gave a little closed-mouth whimper.

 

Sam paled.  They were back at the beginning.  “Hey, Gabriel? Do you remember me?  It’s Sam.”

 

Gabriel peaked but avoided looking directly at Sam, instead his eyes roamed around nervously.

 

“Give him a moment.  See.” Ketch who had just come in behind Sam, squatted down and snapped his fingers in front of Gabriel’s face.

 

Gabriel started back, wide-eyed and scared, but then, after a beat, focused on Ketch.  Sam shot Ketch a dirty look that the Englishman didn’t notice. 

 

“Gabriel.  Sam is here.” Ketch said in a slow, deliberate way.  To emphasize, Ketch pointed to Sam.

 

“I’m going to take you home,” Sam said as gently as he could.  He held out his hand. “Remember the bunker? Come with me and I’ll take you there.”

 

To his surprise, Gabriel leaned forward and grabbed Sam’s hand, holding onto it for dear life with his weakened grip.  Sam helped him out and into a standing position, but as soon as Gabriel saw Dean, he whined and leaned into Sam.

 

Sam wrapped an arm around Gabriel.  Dean’s eyes widened and his face blanched but after a beat, Dean held up his hands and took a step back, try to show Gabriel he wouldn’t hurt him.

 

“It’s just Dean, just Dean, Gabriel.  It’s alright. He isn’t going to hurt you.”

 

“Right, well, let’s get’m in the car,” Dean said after a beat.

 

They made an odd profession, Dean leading the way, Gabriel shuddering against Sam and Ketch walking by their side, occasionally helping Sam guide Gabriel when needed.  Dean went right to Baby’s trunk while Ketch and Sam helped Gabriel into the car.

 

Dean passed a blanket over to Sam and turned to Ketch.  “You sure you don’t want to come with?”

 

“No, I am needed back in that other world,” Ketch said.  “But we have one vial of archangel blood, in case a situation ever arises again that we need to make contact with your world,” Ketch said.  He paused. “Your mother sends her love, as does Jack.”

 

“Yeah, well…”

 

“They do miss you Dean, and you too as well Sam.”

 

“Yeah, well, they made their choices,” Dean said gruffly and headed for the driver’s seat.

 

Sam gave Ketch an apologetic look.  “Tell Mom and Jack that we miss them.” Sam said.

 

“I will,” Ketch said.

 

Sam hesitated and gave Ketch a hug, which obviously took the British man by surprise.  With a sound thump on the back, Sam said, “You take care of them for us and yourself as well.” 

 

“I will,” Ketch said.  Sam watched Ketch walk back to where ever the portal was out further in the treeline.  Then he got back in the car and the two headed off into the night.

 

“I guess one of us should pray to Cas,” Dean said after they drove a few miles down the road.  “He should be able to get his ass out of heaven over this.” 

 

“Yeah,” Sam said as he looked back at Gabriel, he was huddled against the car door, shaking and trying to make himself look small.  He sighed.

 

“I can do it.”  Dean said after a pause.  “I might have been praying to him while he was away.”

 

Sam shot him a grin.  He had too. “Why don’t you do it.  I’ll give Rowena a call. We could use her help with the angel tablet spell.  Besides maybe Gabriel would like to see her again? I mean, I don’t think the two has so much of an actual relationship but more like a, ah…”

 

“Friendly fuck in our library?”

 

Sam shot Dean a bitchy look as he took out his phone.

 

“Yeah, who knows.  Maybe.” Dean said.  Then started with, “Hey Cas!  Up in heaven. Hollowed be your halo or whatever.  You’re gonna want to get down here because-”

 

“Dean!  Cas did say you didn’t have to say it outloud.  I’m trying to call Rowena.”

 

Gabriel whimpered from the back, as if lodging his own complaint.  Dean rolled his eyes but presumably continued his prayer mentally, while Sam updated Rowena.  Shortly thereafter, Rowena was heading to the bunker and hopefully Cas was too. From there, the boys drove on in silence, punctuated only by the occasional whimper from their new charge.

 

When they pulled in severals hours later, Dean was pleased to see two cars parked outside the bunker: Cas and Rowena’s.  Dean parked Baby between them and the two got out. “So how we doing this?”

 

“I think I can handle Gabriel, if you can get the doors,” Sam replied.  While Gabriel spent most of the car ride in a quiet huddle in the backseat, he had begun looking around towards the end of the drive.  Sam hoped it was a good sign.

Dean grabbed the tablet and notes before heading for the door as Sam opened Gabriel’s car door.  The archangel scooted away.

 

“Gabriel, it’s me, Sam.  Remember Ketch rescued you?  You’re safe. We just want to get you into the bunker.”

 

Gabriel looked dubious and fearful, but he didn’t fight Sam when he gentle pulled him out of the car.  Once out, Gabriel looked around fearfully and shrank towards Sam.

 

“Hopefully when he’s not in wide open spaces he’ll stop doing that,” Dean said, looking uncomfortable.

 

“It’s okay, Gabe.  We’re just going inside,” Sam helped lead Gabriel into the bunker.

 

Both Cas and Rowena were waiting in the war room.  Dean let Sam by then beelined for Cas.

 

“Cas, good to see you, man” Dean gave Castiel a warm hug.  Sam, still guiding Gabriel, couldn’t do more at the moment than give him a warm smile which Cas returned over Dean’s shoulder.

 

“And what am I?” Rowena pouted.  Dean rolled his eyes but gave her little hug too.  “Thanks for coming.”

 

“Aye,” Rowena eyed Sam as he exited down the hall with Gabriel.  

 

“I should help Sam,” Dean said, heading after him.  Cas and Rowena looked at each other then followed, Rowena grabbing a jar from the table as she went.

 

Sam had just set Gabriel on the bed when he scurried back in response to the crowd coming in.

 

“Guys, I’m not sure he’s ready for so many people,” Sam said.

 

Dean looked relieved and immediately left.

 

“I have something that may help,” Rowena handed the jar to Sam.  “Remember the potionI had for neutralizing Lucifer?”

 

“Yeah?”  

 

“Absurdly simple, that was,” Rowena huffed.  “Archangels are some of the most powerful creatures on the planet, you’d think a potion to render one unconscious would be more difficult to prepare.  But here, I’ve altered it a wee bit. It’ll make him drowsy and help with pain,” she looked down at the traumatized archangel. “I thought it’ll be easier to clean him and tend to his wounds that way.”

 

“Yeah, it would be.  This will be helpful.  Thanks Rowena,” Sam said.

 

“Rowena, I’ll show you the tablet and the notes,” Dean said, from the hallway.  Rowena gave another glimpse at her one-time lover before heading out after the older Winchester.

 

“Cas, why don’t you stay and help me.  You were here last time so maybe he’ll remember that you helped him before.”

 

Cas nodded and closed the door.  “What now?”

 

“Let’s see if he’ll drink what Rowena made for him.  She’s right, since we can’t power him up there’s no way he can heal himself so we need to clean him up and tend to his wounds.” Sam opened the lid and took a sniff.  It didn’t have much of a smell so maybe it wouldn’t taste to bad. “You stay back, I’ll see if I can coax him into taking a drink.”

 

Sam took a seat on the bed next to Gabriel.  Sam remembered the last time they were in this room and tried to get Gabriel to take his grace.  Forcing it was out of the question. Should he use Ketch’s method of getting Gabriel’s attention?  Or maybe he should just explain and hope that Gabriel was listening, despite his apparently lack of focus?

 

It didn’t hurt to try.

 

“Gabriel, I have a drink for you.”  Sam explained. “Rowena made it for you.  Do you remember Rowena? The two of you, ah, connected.  Anyway, she made it just for you. It’ll help you feel better.”

 

Sam paused to see if that got any reaction from the archangel.  Getting none, Sam plowed on. “It’ll probably make you feel a little sleepy, but you’ll hurt less.  You would like that, won’t you? To hurt less?”

 

“I don’t think he’s following you,” Cas said.

 

“Maybe not,” Sam glanced quickly at Cas, “but I want to try.”

 

He took a slow breath.  “Gabriel. I’m going to give you this drink.  If you don’t want to drink it, I won’t force it, but I think it’ll be a good idea if you did.  Okay? Here we go. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just giving you something to drink.”

 

Sam turned to face Gabriel better and held the jar to Gabriel’s lips.  To his surprise, Gabriel lifted a shaky hand to help guide it and took a gulp.  Gabriel paused and his eyes darted to Sam’s for a moment before he looked down and away.

 

“Yeah, Gabriel, that’s good.  Have some more.”

 

Gabriel slowly drank, until Sam stopped him halfway.  “Let’s see how he does with half a dose. I don’t want him completely unconscious,” Sam said.  A few seconds later, Sam was glad he stopped Gabriel; he was already listing to his side and against Sam.

 

Sam passed the jar to Cas who put it on the dresser.  Cas bent down to look at Gabriel. His eyes were half open and unfocused.  “It’s already working.”

 

“Yeah, she wasn’t kidding about making him sleepy,” Sam said.  But it made sense, since she had based it on a potion meant to roofie archangels.  There was a pro and a con to this though. With Gabriel this out of it, he’d probably offer little to no resistance about getting tended to.  On the other hands, he was barely sitting upright against Sam. Sam eyed him critically. “I want to try to get him in the tub. Can you start a bath?”

 

While Cas got the water running, Sam undressed Gabriel.  It was a bit of a struggle with the shirt, as Gabriel gave only a momentary half-hearted attempt to raise his arms before letting them drop back down, but he managed and by the time Cas returned, Gabriel was ready to go.

 

Sam figured it wasn’t even worth it to try and have Gabriel walk, so he scooped up the doped up archangel in his arms and carried him down the hall to the bathroom.

 

Gabriel actually made a sigh of pleasure once Sam placed him in the tub as his eyes slipped closed.  Sam smiled a little at this. It was the first sound from Gabriel that wasn’t full of fear. And hey, at least he remained upright in the tub, more or less.   

 

“I’m going to wash your hair, Gabriel.” Sam figured that since Gabriel seemed to understand him about the drink earlier, he’d continue on as if Gabriel understood everything he said, even if he was only semi-awake at this point.  Careful to avoid getting shampoo and water in his eyes, Sam washed his hair twice to get all the blood and grime out before leaving some conditioner in and working on cleaning the rest of the archangel’s body. Cas had to catch Gabriel by the shoulders and keep him upright a couple times when he listed to the side, but otherwise they managed to keep him above water as they cleaned him.  Layers of caked blood and grime gave way to reveal the level of abuse Gabriel went through. He was virtually covered in cuts and bruises, several deep. Gabriel hissed in pain as Sam tried to clean the dirt out of particularly nasty gash on his back and Sam winced with sympathy. 

 

A thought unwantedly pushed through Sam’s mind: would he have looked like this, had his torment happened on Earth instead of in the Cage?

 

“Sam?”

 

Sam realized he froze.  He forced himself to continue washing Gabriel, despite the fact that his hands were now shaking.  He pushed the thought out of his mind with a slow breath. He was here now and that was then and he has to stay focused on helping Gabriel.

 

“Some of these will need-” Sam caught himself in time.

 

Cas frowned.  

 

“Uh,” he glanced down at Gabriel and mimed sewing just out of Gabriel’s sight.  “I think, given past history, it might be best to give him the rest of Rowena’s juice before we do it.”  

 

Cas nodded in agreement.  The two finished cleaning Gabriel up in silence.  By the time the task was done, the water was a sickening murky brown.  Cas pulled Gabriel up and Sam dried him off before wrapping him in a towel before picking him up.  Gabriel leaned heavily into Sam as he carried him. His eyes slid shut again, but only to blink back open when Sam gently placed him on the bed.  He looked silently to Sam, then Cas, then back to Sam. Sam realized he was actually looking directly at someone for the first time since they collected him from Ketch.  Sam gave him a grin and Gabriel blinked sleepily at him.

 

Sam sighed and opened the jar and handed it to Cas.  “We should do this. I’ll prop him up. Can you give it to him?”

 

Sam sat by Gabriel and pulled him up so that he was upright and leaning against him.  A minute later, the jar was empty and Gabriel was out cold against Sam.

 

“I’m going to get the kit,” Sam said slipping out and resting Gabriel on the bed.  On the way, he yelled for Dean to pick out some clothes from his closet for Gabriel.  Whatever Dean had would be big, but at least it was closer than anything Sam had. When he returned, Cas had covered Gabriel up with a blanket and was sitting next to him and, to Sam’s surprise, Cas was holding one of Gabriel’s hands.

 

“He was getting cold,” Cas said.

 

He nodded.  

 

Sam started with some of the more shallow wounds, slowly testing out how strong Rowena’s potion was.  Gabriel seemed oblivious to his ministrations, so when Sam was finished with the more minor injuries, he moved on to a deep gash on Gabriel’s leg.  He was about halfway through when Gabriel gave a soft moan. Sam paused, but there was nothing else. Cas gave Gabriel’s had a squeeze. Sam resumed stitching his stitching while Castiel watched curiously.

 

“Usually when I’m present, I just heal you,” Cas finally said.  “I’m not familiar with this process, but it is very similar to sewing a coat.”

 

Sam gave Cas a curious look.  When has Cas sown a coat? But Cas was looking to Gabriel now.

 

“The blanket felt good.”

 

“I’m sure Gabriel appreciates it.” Sam said as he finished the and tied the string.

 

Cas nodded.  “It felt good when I was suffering under Rowena’s spell.  It was completely unnecessary; I am wholly indifferent to temperature yet it was somehow comforting.”

 

It took a second to remember what Cas was referring to: how Dean kept wrapping Cas up after they found him back at the bunker shortly after Amara was released.  He had been strung up and tortured by his fellow angels for hours if not days and was suffering under Rowena’s attack dog spell. Dean had fussed over Cas, trying to keep him off his feet and wrapped up in a blanket.

 

“Yeah, it is comforting when people wrap you up for some reason,” Sam said.  “When I had nightmares as a kid, Dean used to do this burrito wrap thing for me with the blankets.  I always slept better that way. Hey, can you help me roll him over?”

 

“I got the clothes,” Sam heard Dean’s voice as he and Cas were rolling Gabriel over.

 

“Yeah, can you put them on the bed?”

 

There was a soft thump as a small pile of clothes landed on the foot of the bed.  Sam tried to shoot Dean a look but he was already out the door.

 

“Something seem off with Dean to you?” Sam asked Cas as he made sure Gabriel was arranged comfortably.  Cas was back, Gabriel was alive. Dean should be thrilled but instead he seemed...well...off. Like he didn’t want to be around.

 

“Perhaps he’s just tired.” Cas said, sounding not too convinced by his own theory.  “It is six thirty-three in the morning and neither of you slept last night.”

 

“Yeah, maybe it’s that.” Sam said, equally unconvinced, as he started tending to the injuries on Gabriel’s back.  Whatever Dean’s problem was, it could wait until after they took care of Gabriel and got some sleep. Who knows, maybe Cas was right.  It was a long day. Maybe he was just reading too much into it.

 

Sam worked in silence with Cas trying to sooth Gabriel the few times the pain managed to reach Gabriel through his dazed sleep.  Then the two slipped on the tee shirt and sweatpants Dean dropped off.

 

“I wonder how long Rowena’s potion will keep him under,” Castiel said.  “He’s very low on grace, so he may sleep much longer regardless.”

 

Sam stood up and stifled a yawn.  “Hopefully it’ll keep the nightmares away, but I’m sure they’ll wake him up once it wears off.”

 

“Low grace or not, Gabriel is an angel.  We don’t have nightmares, not even-”

 

Sam looked down at Cas, still sitting on the bed, curious.  “Not even…?”

 

“Angels never have dreams, not even when our grace is drained,” Cas said slowly.  “But we can-” 

 

Sam waited patently.  Cas seemed uncomfortable about sharing whatever it was he was about to share.

 

“We can have visions, apparently.”

 

“Visions?”

 

“Of the past.”  Cas shifted. He took Gabriel’s hand again, rubbing it.

 

“Cas, did you ever have these visions?”  Sam asked

 

“Yes,” Cas said down to Gabriel.

 

Sam sat back down on the bed.

 

“After the angels tortured me,” Cas said, “And Dean beat me under the mark’s influence.  I, I had visions of those things. As if they were happening right then.”

 

“Cas, I think what you’re describing is something called a flashback.  Do you have them anymore?”

 

“Not exactly,” Cas said.  He sighed. “I don’t have visions anymore but sometimes many of the associated emotions return without warning.  I find it best to avoid thinking about certain things.” It was what made going into ‘soldier mode’ feel so good; it seemed to stop it from happening or at least made it far less common.

 

Sam gave a sad chuckle.  “Yeah, welcome to the club.”

 

Cas gave him a confused look.  “Club?” 

 

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I’m pretty sure everyone currently in the bunker has it at some level.”  Sam yawned again. “I can tell you more about it in the morning or if you prefer you can research it on your own.  I know there are plenty of books and good websites about it.”

 

Cas nodded.  “I can watch Gabriel while you and Dean get some sleep.”

 

Sam stood up.  “I just might take you up on that.”  He gave Cas’ shoulder a little squeeze.  “And Cas? If it happens again, you know you can always tell me, right?  You’re my brother and I don’t want you to think you need to go through this alone.”

 

“Alright,” Cas said gruffly.

 

Sam gave Cas a good pat on the back for good measure before heading out.  Cas watched Sam leave, then turned back to Gabriel. “And you won’t have to go through this alone either. I promise you that my brother.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sam woke that morning and followed his nose to the kitchen.

 

“Well, it’s the first meal of the day,” Rowena was saying, “I can’t see how you can start it with those frozen monstrosities.”

 

Rowena was sipping some tea while Dean was apparently cooking a feast.

 

“Rowena got up early and went shopping,” Dean explained while cooking some eggs and sausage. “She did not approve of our pantry.  I tried to tell her we’ve been so busy on cases lately that any fresh food in the fridge was just going bad.”

 

“I cannot start the day with frozen egg sandwiches,” Rowena intoned.

 

“Whatever princess.  I still say beans for breakfast is weird.”

 

“You two do realize it’s nearly two o’clock in the afternoon right?”  Sam said. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat next to the ginger witch.

 

“Sammy, it’s breakfast to all of us.”  Dean said. “I don’t think anyone went to bed before six am.”

 

Dean served Rowena her food and turned to Sam who was holding out a plate.  “What? You’re actually having eggs and sausage for breakfast and not your usual yogurt and rabbit food?”

 

“Well, seeing as there's actual eggs and not processed, pre-cooked-”

 

“Hey!  You know I do cook real food most of the time.” Dean moaned and turned to the stove.

 

Sam traded a grin with Rowena.

 

“Rowena finished looking through the notes from the tablet last night and guess what, Sammy?  We’re actually ahead for once.”

 

“Oh?” Sam said between sips of coffee.

 

“Yes, the spell requires both the Seal of Solomon and some fruit from the tree of life, both of which we already have here,” Rowena said.

 

“What else do we need?”

 

“Blood from a reaper, a few herbs, a few incantations,” Rowena shrugged, “nothing too difficult.”

 

“Blood from a reaper won’t be easy,” Dean said.

 

Sam looked thoughtful. “Maybe not.  I mean, they’d want heaven to stay open too, right?  And we don’t need to kill one, we just need some blood.”

 

Dean served Sam his breakfast.

 

“Hey, can I have some beans too?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to the stove to dish out some beans.

 

“I also picked up some clothes for our ailing wee birdie.”  Rowena got up and placed her dish in the sink. “I’m going to bring them to his room and relieve Cas.”

 

After Rowena left, Sam looked over to Dean, who was cleaning up. “Hey, I can get that if you want to check in on Gabe.”

 

“No, I’m good.  I’ve been cleaning as I cook so there’s not much.  Besides, someone’s got to figure out how we’re going to get our hands on some reaper blood.  Maybe Cas and I can figure it out.”

 

Sam shot Dean a look, which was lost on him as he finished his cleaning and went off the find Cas.

 

*******

 

Years of torture and abuse had trained Gabriel not to let them know when you to wake, to fool your abuser into thinking you were still asleep.  So when he awoke, he remained still, eyes closed, drawing no attention to himself. He floated on something soft. His body was still quite sore, but surprisingly comfortable and warm as well.  He let himself drift in and out for some unknown time, trying to enjoy what small stretch of comfort he had before the pain started again.

 

But over time, he became more awake and a little more aware of his surroundings.  He wasn’t floating, but resting on something soft and supportive. His body still ached in all the same spots, but he didn’t seem freshly harmed in any way, which was confusing.  There was a soft murmur of voices, two tones in hushed whispers discussing something Gabriel was too unfocused to follow.

 

It was too good.  There had to be some kind of trick.  It was only a matter of time before the pain began again, before they started to hit or cut into him, before-

 

Someone touched him, lightly, and he squealed and jerked back, causing his wounds to flare up in pain but that was barely noticed in Gabriel’s adrenaline fueled panic.  The gig was up and they were coming for him now.

 

There was a startled yelp followed by voices trying to soothe.  Gabriel scuttled over to the other side and then off the bed, backing up until he hit wall.  He eyed the figures suspiciously. One was tall, so tall, and the other haloed in red. He paled and whimpered, covering his face with his hands and flinching for the first hit.

 

It never came.

 

Instead, over time, he became aware that one of the voices was singing sweetly.  He ventured a quick peek to find the two figures were now on the floor too. The tall man smiled encouragingly before Gabriel hid his face again, confused and still waiting for his punishment.

 

And they stayed there, in that strange standoff as Gabriel’s grace-starved body’s adrenaline fueled panic leached away, leaving him spent and numb.  As his body relaxed his hands drooped, leaving him to stare at pair before him.

 

The song has stopped.  The man was talking: bunker, safe, remember, Rowena, Dean, Cas, Sam.  Sam. Sam. Sam! Gabriel lurched forward and practically buried himself into the tall man-who was Sam!  Sam stiffened momentarily with surprise before wrapping his arms around him. Gabriel was safe, at least for now, so he let it all dissolve into darkness.

 

When Gabriel woke next, he remembers, after a minute, that Sam was there, so he opened his eyes, took stock of his surroundings.  Drab room, old furniture, and Sam, sitting on a chair nearby reading a book. The red haloed woman was gone. Was that Rowena? Or perhaps Anna-but no, Anna was dead.  What a great shame, he always admired that little sister of his. But the maybe Rowena had left. And he, he was in a bed, covered in blankets as drab as the room but impossibly warm and soft after an eternity of hard floors.  There was a soft-a pillow and noise. There was a noise. Someone talking. He looked back to Sam, whose mouth was moving so Gabriel tried to focus.

 

“...and no one’s going to hurt you, Gabriel.”

 

He looked at Gabriel expectantly.  Gabriel blinked back.

 

Sam gave him a soft smile, pleased to see Gabriel focused on him.  “Can you talk to me?”

 

Gabriel considered this, but the thought filled him with fear.  How often did Asmodeus beat him for just that? Anything more than a whimper or a whine through his stitches he paid for it and dearly with his body burning, flesh ripping, and-

 

“Gabriel.  You’re here in the bunker, Gabriel.  Uh, the room has a lamp in it. See. And a nightstand.  And a clock on the nightstand. And a small pile of books.  The first one is blue, the second red and the third is well, also red…”

 

Gabriel didn’t understand why Sam was droning on about the room, but his eyes followed where Sam pointed as he went on and on about the room.  Gabriel found his body relaxing, his mind stilling. By the time Sam had run out of objects in the room and moved on to describing, in detail, his own clothes, Gabriel couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

 

“Sorry,” Sam smiled sheepishly.  “But I was just reading one of the books Cas brought back.  It has these things called grounding exercises in them and, well, I think it helped.”

 

Gabriel watched Sam who was watching him.

 

“Do you want to eat?  Or maybe something to drink?”  Sam asked after a bit. “I know you’re an archangel, but Cas says your grace is very low.  Maybe it’s low enough that you’re hungry?”

 

His grace was very low.  It wasn't that long ago that they last extracted his grace, barely leaving him enough to still be angelic.  Food? Maybe but his throat was raw from screaming, so drink? Definitely.

 

But he wasn’t going to talk.

 

No way was he going to talk.

 

So he stared back at Sam until he sighed.  

 

“At least this time you seem to be following me,” Sam said.  “But I don’t know what you want unless you say something.

 

Tough noogies, Sam.

 

“How about soup?  Dean can heat up a mean can of tomato soup.”

 

Sounds divine.  Sounds heavenly.  Sounds, actually nothing like the home Gabriel grew up in, so the speak, but it sounded good nonetheless.  He was, however, fast asleep by the time Sam returned with the steaming hot bowl.

 

***

 

“Yeah, so we were thinking about reaching out to Jessica,” Dean said.  “Rowena’s got some ideas that can help us that doesn’t involve anyone having to die.”

 

Gabriel peaked his eyes open.  Sam and Dean were too wrapped up in their own conversation to realize he was awake.

 

“That’s good.”

 

“Yeah, come out to the war room.  I’ll grab you a beer and walk you through it.”

 

“We should stay with Gabriel,” Sam said, “in case he wakes up.”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Dean said.

 

“No, he won’t.  Did Rowena tell you want happened when he first woke up?”

 

“Yeah, well, it was better the second time right?”

 

“That’s not the point, Dean.  If-”

 

“Look.  I’ll go get Cas or Rowena and have them sit with him.”

 

There was an awkward pause.  Dean sighed. “Look, Sam. It won’t be good for us to talk in here anyway, right?  I mean, what if we wake him and he does that thing where he gets overwhelmed by our conversation and flies off like he did before.”

 

“I hardly think-”

 

“So we’re going to talk about it in the war room.  I’ll get someone in here and see you in five.”

 

Gabriel could hear Dean’s footsteps retreat and Sam’s frustrated sigh.  Gabriel debated opening his eyes now and letting Sam know he overheard them or keeping them closed until Sam’s relief came in.  After a moment he decided that opening his eyes would just make Sam worry over him, so he waited until he heard both Cas and Rowena come in.  Now that’s an interesting combination, Gabriel thought. 

 

After he heard Sam leave, Gabriel opened his eyes and gave the second shift a shaky smile.

 

Rowena grinned and put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been awake this whole time, haven’t you?”

 

Gabriel gave Rowena a mischievous wink, then grinned as Cas rolled his eyes. 

 

“Well, if you’re up, you might as well get changed,” Rowena said, pulling up a shopping bag.  “I’ve purchased you some new clothes. Mind you, this is just to get you started. I’d imagine you’d like to select your own outfits when you’re feeling better.”

 

Gabriel sat himself up, wincing as he did so.  He was still sore, but improving. His body was finally being given time to heal from the the daily torture he was forced to endure for so long.

 

Rowena pulled three outfits out of her bag.  A pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt, not his normal style but both were soft when he fingered them.  Then there was a luxurious dark crimson pajama set and finally a flannel pajama set. At the last, he gave Rowena a questioning look.

 

“When in Rome,” she replied.

 

“We’re nowhere near Rome,” Cas said.

 

Rowena chucked and Gabriel grinned, which made Cas frown in confusion.  Gabriel fingered the flannel set and found it too was very soft. He chose that and handed the other two back to the witch, who but them in the dresser.  She pulled out another bag. 

 

“I also picked up these,” She tossed two packs of underwear onto the bed.  “Since we were rudely interrupted in the library, I did not get to learn if you preferred boxers or briefs, so I picked up both.

 

He was more of a briefs man himself, but since he’d be lounging around he went for the boxers and tossed the briefs back to her.  

 

Gabriel pulled back the blankets.

 

“Oh, and socks,” Rowena said, handing them over.  “And slippers. I’ve noticed you were limping somewhat when we arrived.”  She peered down at his feet. 

 

His feet.

 

It had taken ages to heal them with the scattering of grace he had retained between extractions.  And still now, they hurt.

 

His feet.

 

They had come for this feet.

 

He had made an attempt to escape and after hauling him back to his cell, that’s when...

 

The door opens letting in a streak of light that backlit the two figures before him.  Their faces shadowed in darkness, Gabriel couldn’t tell which twisted versions of his brothers had come for him now, but it didn’t matter.  As soon as he notices the sledge hammer, that is all he sees.

 

“You should not have made us do this,” sneers a voice.  Gabriel throws himself backwards towards the wall, as far away as possible as they slowly advance.  Panic makes his breath heave rapidly as dread sludges like molten lava in his gut. They keep advancing.  One step at a time. He has nowhere to go. No escape. The hammer bearer stops as the other comes forward.  Gabriel fights him, weaken and uncoordinated-ineffective-until he’s restrained in a standing position. 

 

Without a word the hammer comes down.

 

Gabriel screams madly, his throat burns, but it’s nothing compared to pain blooming in his foot.  He’d fall forward if it weren’t for him captor holding him up. He howls, eyes squeezed shut so the blow to his second foot comes unanticipated.  When his captor lets him go, he barely even feels himself fall. He’s on the floor, his world red and black with pain, blood flowing from his broken feet.  He-

 

“GABRIEL!”

 

Sam stood in front of Gabriel in a dark room lit only by the light through the doorway. Though he recognized the backlit figure as Sam, Gabriel couldn’t keep himself from trying to claw backwards, practically crawling up the wall behind him, glass biting into his hands and feet.  There was red. Blood. His feet. They were bleeding. Covered in red. Gabriel screamed again. It came out of his damaged throat as a garbled cry, nearly voiceless. How long had he been screaming?

 

“Gabriel.  You’re in the bunker.  You’re safe. You, you’ve knocked over the lamp.  I need to get you out of there. You’re on the glass.”  Sam said. 

 

Gabriel didn’t know what to do.  He could recognize where he was now, but his heart still pounded and every instinct screamed to him that he was in danger.  Sam loomed in front of him, backlit face in shadows.

 

“...I don’t know.  Maybe. Maybe get some ice,” Sam was saying to the backlit figures behind him.  They were so many of them. Gabriel shuddered. One of them disappeared, another following.  After a beat, the last figure turned and left as well, leaving him along with the backlit figure of Sam Winchester, looming overhead.

 

Sam carefully took a seat on the floor, a short distance away from Gabriel and the broken glass.  Gabriel looked around. The bedsheets were askew, the craftsman style glass lamp was knocked over and broken, it’s glass now cutting into his feet, his legs, his hands.  The figures from the doorway were still gone, the room was dark except the rectangular stretch of light from the hallway. It took a moment to realize Sam was calling him.

 

“It’s over, Gabriel.  Whatever happened, whatever they did to you, that’s in the past now,” Sam started when he saw he had Gabriel’s attention again.  “Whatever you were remembering, whatever you were seeing, that’s from the past. Right now you’re in your bedroom in the bunker. You’re sitting with me, Sam.  No one else is in the bunker but me, Dean, Cas, and Rowena. It’s well warded. You are safe. Can you try taking a couple deep breaths for me? Like this.”

 

Gabriel watched Sam skeptically as he made a show of taking a couple deep breaths, inhaling deeply through his nose, then slowly out his mouth.  Feeling somewhat stupid, Gabriel started to follow along until a new figure suddenly appeared. Gabriel shrank back against the wall. Eyes wide with fear.  The figure paused.

 

Sam turned to see what Gabriel was reacting too, then held out his hand.  “Thanks, Dean.”

 

Dean handed something over and with a muttered, “Whatever” he fled the room.  Sam frowned and shrugged, but before he could turn back to Gabriel someone else came in.  Seconds later, Castiel had a new lamp plugged in by the dresser, notably further away from the bed.  The room was once again bathed in light.

 

Castiel hesitated.  “Should I stay or go?”

 

Sam turned back to Gabriel.  “You remember Cas, right? Your brother?”

 

Gabriel just looked back at Sam.  It wasn’t a matter anymore about being afraid to talk.  His throat was too raw. He couldn’t make a sound if he wanted too.  Castiel hung back, but didn’t leave.

 

“Gabriel, we need to get you out of that corner and away from the glass.  If I hold out my hand, would you take it?”

 

Gabriel nodded.  Sam smiled and slowly reached out to Gabriel, helping him up.  Gabriel winced in pain, feeling a few shards a glass embed further into the soles of his feet.  Sam surveyed the situation for a moment. “I don’t want you walking over this glass. Can I carry you over and put you on the bed?”

 

Gabriel nodded again and Sam looked around, trying to figure out where to put the now melting ice that Dean had given him.

 

Cas held out a hand and took it, asking Sam as he did why he asked for it.

 

“It’s a grounding exercise from that book,” Sam said.  “Did the one you’re reading discuss them?”

 

“No.  It discussed the biopsychological mechanisms of post-traumatic stress disorder and other anxiety disorders,” Cas replied.

 

“Maybe you should read the one I’m reading next.  I think it had a more practical approach,” Sam said as he lifted Gabriel up and away from the glass.

 

Gabriel held on as Sam carried him over and sat him on the bed.

 

Gabriel looked down, his feet were covered in blood.  Just like…

 

Gabriel made an odd huffy noise as he tried to yelp against the cold sensation suddenly on his face.  After a second he shot Castiel a dirty look. 

 

“The ice was useful after all,” Cas said, backing up.

 

Sam grabbed the kit from the dresser.  “I need to take the glass out of his feet and take care of those cuts.”

 

Gabriel watched him carefully.  He knew what Sam was going to do.  He knew it would make him better, but despite himself, when Sam started towards his feet with the tweezers, he gave a garbled shriek and backed away, smearing blood all over the bedsheets.

 

“Gabriel.  You’ll feel better once I get those out.”

 

Gabriel shook his head, backing up further.  No. No-no-no-no-no.

 

“Perhaps we need to use some cohesion,” Cas said, stepping forward again.  

 

Gabriel’s back bumped into the wall.  He whimpered and tried to curl up. What was he doing?  He knew they were trying to help. But the fear overrode his own common sense.  His whole body shook and his stomach heaved with nausea. He couldn’t let anyone touch his feet.  Not again. Not for any reason.

 

“Perhaps I can help,” a new voice spoke.  All three glanced over to Rowena, who held full another jar.  “I suspected you’d need some more of this.”

 

Sam looked at her, then back at Gabriel, conflicted.  But Gabriel was already lowering his hands, slowly. He was a mess, blood now smeared on his face as it oozed out of a collection of cuts on his hands, feet, and legs.  Sam sighed heavily and took the drink from Rowena.

 

“Would you take this?”  Sam asked.

 

Gabriel cautiously held out his hands to accept it.  He downed it quickly. Equally relieved to have something cool and moist against is raw throat and eager for everything to just. Stop.  Moments later it was gone and shortly after that Gabriel slumped forward.

 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Sam said as he and Cas layed Gabriel out.  “We can’t keep drugging him.”

 

“I never said we should, Samuel,” Rowena purred.  “But he was injured and was likely to only injure himself more.”  She gently stroked Gabriel’s shoulder and peered at him. 

 

Sam sighed and situated himself at the foot of the bed, where he could easily take the shards of glass out of Gabriel’s feet, while Cas left to get a broom to clean up the glass.  Rowena left after a moment as well and when the pair returned, Sam had just finished removing the glass from one foot and was starting on the other. 

 

Rowena had a bowl of water and a cloth.  She began washing the blood from Gabriel’s face.

 

“I just don’t know what to do,” Sam said.  “We’re not experts in this. Hell, I’m not sure any of us are dealing with our own issues in a healthy manner.  How can we help Gabriel with his?”

 

“He was better after defeating Asmodeus,” Castiel said from the corner of the room.  “Perhaps he will recover in a few days or as he regenerates his grace.”

 

Sam shook his head.  “Yeah, but how much better was he really.  Sure he was talking and, I don’t know, functioning better, but he wasn’t really better.  I mean, he was better, but he wasn’t better-better.”

 

No one really had an answer to this, so all three continued on their tasks in silence for a moment.

 

Rowena, who had moved on to cleaning Gabriel’s arms and hands, spoke up.  “He has some glass in his hands as well, Samuel.”

 

The two traded places, Sam extracting glass from Gabriel’s hands while Rowena cleaned and bandaged his feet.

 

“What’s wrong with Dean,” Rowena finally asked.

 

“You noticed too, huh?”  

 

“Hard to miss how the boy ran out of here earlier.” Rowena said.  “He nearly crashed into me in the hallway. And he’s the only one who hasn’t sat in with Gabriel since he arrived.”

 

Sam glanced over to Cas, hoping his friend might have an idea why his brother was behaving as he was.  

 

“He seems uncomfortable with Gabriel,” Castiel said.

 

“Yes, but why?”  Rowena said. “I thought he was passed his anger about Gabriel running away from the bunker after killing Asmodeus.”

 

“I don’t think it’s that,” Sam said slowly as he finished removing the last shard of glass and grabbed a few bandages.  Reviewing Dean’s behavior the last few days, he was starting to suspect he knew what was up. He’ll have to talk to Dean, alone, as soon as he had a chance.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little shorter, but has an emotional punch to it. 
> 
> As always, if you like, feel free to comment and validate my fragile ego. ;)

Sam found Dean in the Library.  

 

One of the tables in the front was piled high with books on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from Castiel’s recent raid on the local bookstore.  The angel had apparently purchased everything he could find even slightly related to the topic up to and including a children’s book called “How Little Coyote Found his Secret Strength” and “The PTSD Workbook for Teens.”  Castiel was nothing if not thorough. Sam put the book he just finished down next to the pile, rifled through and found another book that looked promising before going to Dean.

 

Dean had taken the table farthest away from the PTSD books and had a six pack of beer with him.  He was already on his second. Sam took a seat across from his brother, placed the book down between them, folded his hands in front of him, and tried to figure how best to start this conversation.

 

“What?” Dean said after Sam failed to say anything after a beat.

 

Might as well just jump right into it.  “Dean, I know it can be hard to look at Gabriel and see what was done to him.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I’m talking about before, the first time when Ketch brought Gabriel back to us the first time and again now.  You’ve been avoiding him, you practically run out of the room whenever you’re with him. And believe me, I know.  I do. There’s times where I-”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean grumbled.

 

“Yes I do, Dean.  I do. I know seeing Gabriel like this brings back memories of being tortured in hell.  I mean, at times it’s kind of hard to see him injured like this and not remember how-”

 

“No, you really don’t.”  Dean finished off his second can and went for a third.

 

Frustrated, Sam ran a hand through his hair.  It’s been a long day and he was eager to get to bed, but he knew from experience that if he didn’t make Dean hash this out now, Dean would only repress it.  And it wasn't just Gabriel in this bunker that needed help, Dean did too. Hell, they all did.

 

“Listen, I get that you might not want to talk to me about it.  And that’s okay, really. But you need to open up to someone about what Alastair did to you in hell.  There’s Cas. Rowena can be surprisingly-”

 

“What was done to me?” Dean said slamming the can down so hard beer sloshed out.  “Me. What was done to me.”

 

Sam blinked.  “Yeah.”

 

Dean laughed bitterly.  “Do you really know what I see every damn time I see Gabriel?”

 

“Yeah.  What?”

 

“Fear.  And pain.  Desperation.  I see someone who knows they’re gonna get it and and get it bad.  That’s what I see, Sammy. I see the face of every damn soul I cut into in hell, looking right back at me.  I see their pain, I see their terror, I see their despair. I see how they know I’m gonna keep on hurting them until-until...”

 

Dean choked on his own words and stood up so abruptly that his chair crashed to the floor.  He turned away so his brother couldn’t see the tear he had no damn right to be crying.

 

“So Sammy, I don’t see what you see in Gabriel, okay?  I just see another poor wretch I let down. That I hurt.”

 

“But Dean, that’s not your fault,” Sam said getting up too.  “What happened in hell, you had no choice.”

 

Dean laughed bitterly.  “Oh, I did Sam. I had a choice.  Stay on the rack or put others on.  And I made my choice, Sam. I know what I am now.  I’m a monster. I’m not better than the things we hunt.”

 

Dean whipped around to grab the six pack and stormed off to his room, leaving Sam, stunned, behind.

 

***

 

The next morning was nothing like the last.

 

The kitchen was empty when Sam got up and ate breakfast.  Dean’s door was still firmly shut when he was finished. Either he was out or he wasn’t coming out.  Either way, it was quiet in there. Sam lingered, and nearly knocked on the door, but truth was if Dean was sleeping off a hangover it was probably best not to wake him.  And if he didn’t want to talk yet, he wasn’t going to talk. And if he wasn’t there, it would be pointless to knock. So he went to check on Gabriel instead.

 

“He’s been like this all morning,” Rowena whispered as Sam took the chair beside her.

 

Gabriel was but a lump in the bed.

 

“He hid under the sheets shortly after he woke up,” Rowena explained.

 

“Scared?”

 

“No, well, maybe in part.  I think he’s mostly embarrassed about yesterday,” Rowena said and added after a big yawn.  “He woke up, looked at his hands for a wee bit and then pulled the covers over his head. Wouldn’t talk to me, that’s for sure.”

 

Sam sighed.  

 

“And where’s Cas?”

 

“He spent the night reading some of those books you brought back from the library, bringing up any points he thought applied to me.”  She bristled. “I know he means well but…”

 

Sa smiled.  “He does.”

 

“Either way I’d rather wish he didn’t.  Acts like he’s a regular Dr. Phil.” Rowena sighed.  “Shortly before Gabriel woke, he announced he needed to go and just left.  No explanation given.” 

 

Sam hung his head for a moment.  He was hoping to talk to Cas about Dean.  He took a deep breath and lifted his head back up.  “You’ve been up all night. I’ve got it from here.”

 

Rowena nodded gratefully and left, giving the Gabriel lump a gentle little pat as she departed.  Sam watched her leave before turning back to the lump on the bed and taking another deep breath.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

There was no response.  

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Still nothing, unsurprisingly.  Gabriel hadn’t talked since they got him back.

 

“Would you like some tomato soup?”

 

After a beat there was a shift of the blankets and then some general flailing about underneath as Gabriel tried to use his heavily bandaged hands to move the blanket.  Then a pair of eyes were staring back at him, looking kind of sheepish. Gabriel’s hair, normally slicked back, was a bit of a mess and flopping into his face. He only peeked the top of his head out of the blankets, keeping the rest of him hidden.  He tried futilely to blow a strand of hair out of the way.

 

Sam smiled.  So, he was hungry.

 

“I can go heat some up for you.  Would you be alright on your own for a couple minutes?”

 

When Gabriel didn’t respond, Sam sighed again.  “Okay, I’m going to get you that soup. I’ll be right back.  If you need me, just shout.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and watched Sam leave.

 

When Sam returned with the soup in a mug, the rest of Gabriel’s head was poking out, but that was about it.  Sam put the soup down and gathered up some pillows for Gabriel to sit up against. Gabriel tried to sit himself up, but hissed in pain when he put weight on his injured hands.

 

“Here, let me help you,” Sam said and helped Gabriel sit up against the pillows.  He only flinched a little bit when Sam touched him. Progress.

 

“I figured a spoon might be hard to handle with your hands bandaged up like that, but I think you might be able to handle a mug,” Sam said as he carefully handed it over to Gabriel.  “And I tried not to heat it up too hot so you can drink it without burning your tongue.”

 

To his surprise, Gabriel all but chugged it down and handed it back.

 

“I guess I should have made more effort to getting you something to eat yesterday.  Are you still hungry? I can make you a sandwich.”

 

Gabriel frowned.

 

“Gabriel.  I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want,” Sam said.

 

Gabriel touched his throat and shook his head.

 

“Lost your voice?”

 

Gabriel nodded.

 

Well, this was a problem.  Gabriel couldn’t exactly write down what he needed either, given the state of his hands.

 

“Wait a minute, remember how you wrote on the walls last then when you-last time,” Sam said awkwardly, not wanting to bring up his time with Asmodeus and risk another violent flashback.  He still hadn’t figured out what brought on yesterday’s incident. “Do you have enough mojo to do that again?”

 

A series of Enochian symbols appeared on the wall.  Gabriel looked at them, frowned, and they changed to English.  

 

_ Good idea, Sam. _

 

Sam smiled. “So, hungry for more?”

 

_ Not hungry.  Throat hurts.  More soup. _  Gabriel yawned.  

 

“Do you think you can stay awake while I heat it up?”

 

_ I’ll try. _

 

Gabriel was still awake when Sam returned and drank his soup more slowly this time, savoring the feel of the smooth warm liquid against this throat.  Sam watched the disheveled archangel. He was still in Dean’s old sweats and tee-shirt. Rowena didn’t get as far as getting him changed. He’d probably be more comfortable in something that fit better.

 

_ What happened with Lucifer and the other world’s Michael? _  Appeared on the wall as Gabriel was finishing his soup.  He handed it back to Sam, who put it on the dresser.

 

“Michael killed Lucifer and Jack killed Michael,” Sam said.  As he began rooting around in the dresser for Gabriel’s clothes.  He pulled out a crimson pajama set. When he turned around, he found Gabriel staring blankly off into the distance.

 

“Hey, Gabriel?”  Sam looked to the wall for a response.  Nothing. “Gabriel? Gabriel can you hear me?”  

 

Nothing.  He was gone again.

 

*******

 

Meanwhile, as Sam tried desperately to reach Gabriel, Cas watched Dean as he furiously worked on Baby.  A few minutes ago, Dean had scooted out from under the car for a tool, made eye contact with the angel briefly, before wordlessly returning to this task, all but ignoring Cas.  So he knew the angel was there, he just wasn’t talking to him.

 

Humans, and Dean in particular, could be so stubborn.

 

“You and your brother often forget I’m an angel,” Castiel said, shoving his hands into his pockets and addressing the Impala, or rather the human under the Impala.  “I can hear pretty much everything happening in the bunker.”

 

There was a grunt.  

 

“I don’t mean to listen on when you and your brother have your conversations, but I couldn’t help but overhear the two of you last night.  You weren’t exactly quiet.” Cas shifted a little. “Sam is right, Dean. It isn’t your fault.”

 

“Drop it Cas,” Dean growled from underneath the car.

 

“You are the righteous man, Dean, if you-”

 

“And what the hell is that even supposed to mean?” Dean slip out from underneath the car and glared at Cas.  “How righteous is torturing a bunch of innocent people in hell, huh?”

 

“They weren’t innocent,” Cas said.  “They were sent to damnation for their sins.”

 

“Yeah, well they never did anything to me.  But I-I…” Dean didn’t seem to know how to continue.  He slammed the tool he was using into the toolbox and tried to storm off.  

 

“Dean,” Cas grabbed him before he could leave the garage and spun him around.  “When I rescued you in hell, your soul shone brighter than any-”

 

“Don’t give me that crap.”

 

Cas huffed.  “They tortured you.”

 

“Yeah, and then I agreed to-”

 

“You don’t get that do you?  That making you torture others is a form of torture in and of itself.  It was a way to hurt  _ you _ , Dean.  It was a way to beat you down and try to destroy your soul and guess what.  They failed. They failed Dean. Because if you were really a monster. If they really turned you into something so evil, this wouldn’t hurt.  You wouldn’t care that they made you torture others. But you do, Dean. You do. And you’re one of the best men I know, because you care. You care so much.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to argue, twice.  Tried to come back with a retort against that logic and failed.  Cas suddenly pulled him into a tight hug to took him off-balance in more ways than one.  Dean went stiff, then slowly softened.

 

“You’re not evil, Dean,” Cas said, his low voice a soft rumble.  “You’re not a monster, not a demon. You care about people. And we care about you.  You’ll get through this.”

 

And then, finally, Dean broke down and cried into his shoulder.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! I haven't forgotten nor abandoned the story! I've had some health (and mental health) issues as of late that have slowed me down. I suspect the once a week update schedule I had originally given myself my be a bit too ambitious for me right now, but I am still working on the story! I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Dimly Gabriel became aware of a familiar voice beckoning him back from the darkness of his own mind.  He wanted to stay shut down; it was quiet and uncomplicated. Devoid of pain. But the voice was insistent.  Gabriel could feel someone gripping his arms now.

 

He blinked.  Loneliness seeped back into his core and he shuddered.  He was alone, essentially the last of the archangels now.  All three brothers were gone, and his father abandoned them long ago.  Where once there was a family, now there was nothing. He ran away because he loved them all and their fighting was just too painful and now they were all gone.  It was just him, alone.

 

It was just him.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

He knew that voice.  Sam. Of course it was Sam.  He could see him now, staring at him with concern all over that puppy dog face of his.

 

Once Sam realized Gabriel was actually looking at him, he gave a frail smile.  “You with me now, Gabriel?”

 

Sam looked at Gabriel expectantly, then the wall.  The smile sagged when no message appeared.

 

Gabriel was just too tired.  Too, too tired. Every part of him was sore, he had barely enough grace left to even be considered an archangel.  All he wanted was sleep. Blank, dreamless sleep. Gabriel wondered if there was anymore of that potion left that they had given him, so he could sink back into nothingness.  Far away, where the pain and the fear couldn’t reach him.

 

Sam gave him a little shake.  He was talking at him again. Gabriel gave a little huff and closed his eyes.  He allowed himself to pitch forward, certain that the younger Winchester would catch him, and he did.

 

Sam’s tone shifted from pleading to some sort of soothing murmur.  Gabriel rested his head against Sam’s chest and let the human’s heartbeat be his potion and usher him off to sleep.

 

Sam felt Gabriel grow limp in his arms and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.  Gabriel had been here how many days now? They had all started to blend together, but after a moment Sam settled on three...three and a half.  It had been over three days and everytime it felt like they were moving forward, they’d slide back again. Gabriel. Gabriel would slide back again.  Gabriel, the archangel, one of the most powerful and awe-inspiring of all the angels. The one written in the bible more than any other. The one he looked up to more than any other angel as a child.  The one he had prayed too. 

 

And he just wasn’t shaking this.

 

What hope does that give him, Sam, for beating his own metaphorical demons? Or Dean, or Cas or Rowena for that matter?  If Gabriel couldn’t beat this, then who could? What good is reading all these books on PTSD? What was the point of even trying to rise above this?  Everytime it just pulled him back down. 

 

Sam struggled to keep his own emotions, his own despair, in check.  He was no good to Gabriel if he fell apart right now, as tempted as he was to just give in.  But he had an archangel leaning on him right now, both literally and metaphorically. They couldn’t stay this way forever.  Sam took stock of the situation. Gabriel had reverted back into a cross-legged position when he zoned out and was now slumped forward against him awkwardly, supported partly against his chest and held up in his arms.  His pillows were still piled up against the bed frame. He needed to somehow get the pillows down so that he could lower Gabriel down on them, then straightened out his legs.

 

Sam shifted a little so he could hold onto Gabriel with one arm, then tried stretching out his other out to the pillows.  But of course he was just short, his fingertips skimming their surface once or twice but unable to get a grip. Gabriel began to slump so he had to give up the fixing the pillows in favor of catching and supporting the angel.

 

“This would be a lot easier if you were awake,” Sam grumbled softly.

 

Sam closed his eyes briefly and sighed again.  He didn’t feel like he could do this. He felt so useless.  He opened his eyes and looked over to the wall.  _ What happened with Lucifer and the other world’s Michael? _ still remained written on the wall in Gabriel’s surprisingly elegant script.  Sam cursed himself silently for being so glib when he answered. Both archangels deserved what they got, but they were still Gabriel’s brothers.  He should have realized that it would be too much of a shock for Gabe in the condition he was in. He should have known better. Should have done better.  He should be better.

 

And here he was, Gabriel once again out in his arms.  Gabriel once again tortured because he left him behind.  Everything he does, ends up hurting those he loves in the end.  Jessica, Dean, Cas, Eileen, Charlie...and now Gabriel. He’s either hurt or lost them all-or both! And all because of his actions.

 

He was useless.  So useless right now.  He couldn’t even get Gabriel dressed.  He could see the clothes still on top of the dresser.  Another thing he once again failed at.

 

The room felt almost suffocating.  And Sam wanted out. Out of the room, out of the bunker, just...out.  

 

But he couldn’t let Gabriel go.  Not with the archangel crumpled against him like this.  He couldn’t-

 

“Hey,” his brother whispered as he opened the door.  Sam could hear him and Cas stepped in from behind. “You two having a moment?”

 

Sam resisted the urge to bolt.  “Can you get the pillows?” He asked instead.

 

Dean stepped forward and pulled one pillow down, tossing the others to the other side of the bed.  “You got him?” Dean asked.

 

Sam nodded and carefully lay the archangel down.  Gabriel was sleeping so deeply he didn’t even stir.  As Sam stood up, Cas came over and straighten out Gabriel’s legs, then tucked him in the blankets.

 

“How is Gabriel doing?”  Cas asked.

 

Sam took a deep breath and explained everything that just happened which by the end felt like a review of his latest failure.  When he was finished, he was feeling the urge to bolt again. He sighed with frustration. “He just doesn’t seem to be making any progress.”

 

Cas frowned thoughtfully.  “I do not think that’s accurate.”

 

“How so,” Sam huffed.

 

“Gabriel was able to remain awake for a longer stretch of time.  He ate. He did not get triggered into a flashback, and you were able to reach out and get him to communicate again.” Cas looked down at his brother, still fast asleep.  “It is understandable that he became overly tired and that he was unable to process the news about Lucifer and Michael, but it sounds like you were able to pull him back in a short period of time.  It looks like he’s improving.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.” Sam sounded unconvinced.

 

“Look, you’ve been pulling a lot of shifts with Gabriel lately,” Dean said.  “Cas and I can watch him for a while, it looks like you could use a break.”

 

“Great!” and Sam left so quickly that it shocked Dean and Cas.  The two looked at each other in surprise for a moment.

 

“I guess he really wanted that break,” Dean joked.  It fell flat, even to him.

 

The two took a seat besides Gabriel’s bed.  Dean found it a lot easier to look at him now that he was asleep and not looking around with that gleam of wild fear in his eyes.

 

“He almost looks peaceful,” Dean said.

 

“Angels rarely sleep, but we never dream,” Cas noted.  He looked over at Dean carefully.

 

“Huh,” Dean said.  “Lucky.”

 

For a moment he felt half tempted to mention his nightmares.  It wasn’t as if Cas didn’t know about them already. When Cas was staying at the bunker, he’d often find the angel stepping into them, disrupting whatever horror show his brain was showing him that night.  But they never talked about it.

 

He glanced back at Gabriel.  He could tell how to inflict just about ever mark, scar, or bruise on the archangel’s body.  Unlike Asmodeus, whoever tortured Gabriel under Michael’s command was far less skilled. Asmodeus clearly went for the most amount of pain or a sense of lost control, submission, while still retaining the mobility of his victim.  Whoever hurt Gabriel last was a novice. They did more damage in their sloppiness than was probably ideal and didin’t always go for maximum pain or embarrassment. When he was in hell, he was able to do so much worse. He did do so much worse.

 

Dean startled when he felt a hand on his arm.  He turned to look a Cas, who was staring at him.  Only then did he realize how fast his heart was pounding.  Only then did he taste the bile in his mouth. He looked away, coughed, and opened up his book.  The nerds wanted him to read, so he’d read.

 

After a few minutes he felt Cas’ hand move.  He glanced up to see Cas take Gabriel’s hand, then looked up briefly at the still slumbering archangel.  Then he went back to his reading.

 

The sat there in silence for a little over a hour, the pages from the PTSD book turning being the only sound in the quiet room.  Cas seemed content to just sit as Dean read on. He felt like a solid, reassuring presence next to Dean.

 

Eventually Dean looked over to Cas.  “You know, Cas, there’s one solution to Gabriel’s issues we haven’t considered yet.  Why don’t we-”

 

“Hello Dean.  Hello Castiel.”

 

“Jessica!”  Dean flipped the book closed as he stood up.  Jessica gave them a bright smile from where she stood at the other side of the bed before looking down at Gabriel.  She gave the slumbering archangel a little frown before turning her attention back to the pair, brightly smiling once again.

 

“So, I’ve heard your conversations about resurrecting the angels and brought your request back to the boss,” she said.

 

“We never spoke with you,” Cas said.

 

“She’s has eyes on Sam and I,” Dean said with a soft bristle.  For once, he was actually hoping she was still around though.

 

“And Death considered your request,” Jessica continued.

 

“And…?”  

 

This could only go two ways, Dean figured, and one of those ways was bound to be unpleasant.

 

Jessica sighed somewhat dramatically and rolled her eyes.  Then she held up a couple vials. “Blood from a reaper.” She explained.  “It is in our best interest to cooperate as well. We want heaven to stay open.”  She paused dramatically, “However, we are only willing to give a limited supply. This should be enough to resurrect about twenty angels, that should be enough to keep heaven’s gates open.”

 

She looked back down at Gabriel.

 

“Of course one archangel should do just as well.”

 

Cas and Dean followed her gaze back down at Gabriel.  They weren’t so keen on bringing Gabriel back to heaven.  At least not now. Not as weak as he currently was. Noami did a bad enough job on Castiel several years back, it was disturbing to think what she could do with someone as powerful as an archangel.

 

“He stays,” Cas said, fingers stretching and ready for his sword to drop.

 

“Death says he has a different fate though,” she shrugged again, ignoring Cas’ protective stance.

 

Dean raised his eyebrows and reached across the bed to take the vials.  “Well, thanks I guess.”

 

“No problem.  Bye, Cas. See you later, Dean.”  And with that, she was gone.

 

Cas and Dean looked at each other.  “I guess we should go get Sam and Rowena then.”

 

***

 

Sam’s feet pounded against the ground.  When Dean and Cas took over, it wasn’t enough to leave the room, he found himself out of the bunker, full of anxious energy and uncertain what to do.  Before he gave it much thought, he was running, speeding through his old familiar morning run route. He’s actually fallen out of practice in the last year and between that and the frantic pace in which he was running, he soon found himself leaning against a tree, panting.  When he finally got some control over his breathing, he turned around and slid down until he was sitting in the grass, leaning against the rough back of the tree. He shrugged out of his flannel and uses it to wipe his sweaty brow.

 

Why did he stop jogging?

 

Somehow in all of the craziness of last year, Sam got out of the routine that he anchored him throughout most of his adult life.  He took a deep breath, tied the flannel shirt around his waist and took off again, this time at a saner pace. He could feel his feet thump, thump, thump against the ground, the sun filtering through the trees, feel the wind against him as it blew.  Everything else just kind of dropped away as the world grew smaller, safer, limited only to the run. The trail eventually gave way to the side of the road, but Sam barely even noticed as the stray cars whizzed by as his feet pounded rhythmically against the ground.  He turned automatically when he reached the edge of town, the routine so ingrained in his body despite his recently neglect, that he didn’t even have to think about it.

 

By the time he reached the bunker doors again, he was calm again, at least for now.  In fact, he managed to give Rowena a pleasant smile as he passed her on route to the kitchen.  After he guzzled down three glasses of water, he filled up his glass a fourth time and met back up with her back in the library.

 

Curiously, she was sitting very still at one of the library tables, focusing in on a large chunk of Amethyst crystal.  And it almost sounded like...yes, she was humming softly too.

 

He watched her while slowly sipping his water.  She spared him only a quick glance before continuing on for a few more minutes.  By the time she was finished, Sam was nearly done sipping his fourth glass of water and was contemplating a snack, or maybe lunch.  Or was it closer to dinner time? 

 

“I thought amethysts didn’t really have magical powers,” Sam said curiously as the witch started to pack it up in a cloth bag.

 

“They don’t,” Rowena said in a voice that didn’t encourage follow up questions.  Then she paused and changed her mind with a sigh. “It helps me meditate though.”

 

“To focus your magic?”

 

“No,” Rowena drawled with her Scottish accent.  “I find it helps me when I’m feeling a wee bit anxious.  I find I need to find a point of focus onthough. Most people use their breath for that, but having died twice, I find my breath a poor anchor for me.”

 

“Oh,” Sam said.  “Does it help?”

 

“It takes practice,” Rowena said.  “But yes, I find it helps. I find it calms me mind at any rate.  I try doing it twice a day.”

 

“Funny,” Sam said.  “I was just thinking about how a jog seems to do the same for me.”

 

“Aye, and I can tell you’ve just been on one,” Rowena sniffed.  “I take it, it helped?”

 

“Yeah.  I used to run all the time but I got out of the habit.  I think I’m going to start picking it up again though, every morning.  I think it’s a bit like meditation for me.”

 

“Hey guys!” Dean announced as he and Cas entered the room.  “I hope everyone’s ready to resurrect a few angels because we’ve got everything we need!”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup! I'm still alive. I know it's been ages since my last update. Part of it has been a number of personal life stuff I'd rather not get into in detail. Part of it was wrestling with the fact that this whole angel resurrection thing isn't really what I wanted to write about but it kinda grew and I had to deal with it in story. So, this chapter deals with it pretty head on and puts some closure to it, so we can get back to our regularly scheduled whump. ;) So, if you were hoping for something big with the angels' resurrection/heaven failing storyline, sorry but this is it. :( And if you just wanted more hurt/comfort and angst, that'll continue in my next chapter. :D

While casting the spell to resurrect the angels went surprisingly easy, the conversation before on who to resurrect did not.

 

“No.  Absolutely not.”

 

“Dean, it makes the most sense.”  The two stared down at each other.  Rowena and Sam traded uncomfortable glances.

 

“I can’t even believe you’d go for Hannah.  Wasn’t she one of the angels that tortured you?”

 

“No, that was Efram and Jonah.  Hannah stood up to them. She was killed because of me.”

 

“She was in on the plan, though.  Right? Wasn’t she in on the plan from the beginning?”

 

“She said there was a vote in heaven and-”

 

“And she went along with it.”

 

“Dean, she has natural leadership abilities and the strength to stand up to Naomi in heaven,” Cas said with a sigh.  “And however much she was an accomplice to what happened to me, she changed her mind and defended me and that cost her her life.”

 

Dean let out a ragged breath, almost a sigh.  “Fine, okay. Fine. We’ll go with Hannah but I don’t have to like it.”

 

“Who else?” Sam asked.

 

“Samandriel.”

 

Sam smiled slightly.  “He was a good kid.”

 

Cas squinted at him.  “Samandriel was several millennia old when he died.”

 

Dean’s lips formed a thin line.  “I see. And your third choice?”

 

“Rachel.”

 

Sam frowned.  “The name sounds familiar.”  He looked to Dean who seemed to be mulling the name over, then to Rowena.  She shrugged. “Never heard of her.”

 

“She was one of my lieutenants in the war against Raphael,” Cas explained.

 

“Oh, I know this angel,” Dean said suddenly.  “She’s the one that tried to kill you while Sam and I were in 1861 Wyoming trying to get the phoenix ashes. You ganked her, right.  Probably because she knew about purgatory.”

 

Cas opened his mouth to explain but Dean held up a hand.  Dean sat heavily in the library chair. “Cas, I know you’ve got your regrets, man, I do too.  But you can’t just chose to people to make right what you think you did wrong.”

 

“Dean, Samandriel and Rachel’s deaths are my fault.  The least I can do is-”

 

“And what’s next, Cas?  When we get our hands some more fruit from the tree of life, who are you going to choose next?  Huh? Balthazar? We gonna resurrect every angel that’s gonna be gunning to kill you?”

 

Cas glared down a Dean.  Dean stared back at him.

 

“It’s getting a wee bit testy in here, boys.” Rowena said.  

 

“You can’t always fix what you did wrong,” Dean said.  “What you can do is pick the best people-the best angels, to keep heaven going.  Angels that aren’t going to want you dead.”

 

“I am picking the best angels, Dean.”  Cas seethed. “Hannah and Rachel have excellent leadership skills and have a history for standing up to authority figures for what is morally right.  As things stand now, Naomi is running heaven and the only thing keeping her away from brainwashing angels is that they are strapped so thin that she can’t pull anyone away from working to do it.  Once our numbers increase, we’d need someone who could counterbalance her. Especially since a few of our members have become so disheartened and, quite frankly, depressed by our endangered status that they might be more than willing to allow her to make it all ‘go away.’”

 

“And Samandriel?”

 

“Samandriel knows what Naomi was doing.  His dying breath was spent warning me about the brainwashing happening in heaven.  He’ll be vigilant. Furthermore, he has a love of humanity and would take the duties of caring for the souls in heaven seriously.”

 

“Well, we only have three fruit from the tree of life left.  Are we resurrecting those angels or not?” Rowena asked. “We’d have to fetch more fruit before resurrecting anyone else.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, I think Dean has a point, Cas.  It’s not your fault they died and you shouldn’t carry that guilt.  But Dean, it also sounds like the three angels Cas picked do have solid reasons behind them and we should respect that.  He knows heaven better than all of us.”

Dean fumed, then took out an angel blade. “We do them one at a time and if they go for Cas, I’m killing them again.  I don’t care how many angels heave needs.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes.  “Yes, why don’t we waste what few resurrections we have.”

 

“You know, there's no reason Cas has to be in the room when we resurrect them,” Rowena intoned.

 

Everyone looked at Rowena.

 

“She has a point,” Sam said.

 

They decided to resurrect Hannah first.  Cas successfully argued that he could be present for this one, given she died trying to save him.  Moreover, they hoped Hannah would be able to help explain the situation to the other two angels.

 

Rowena mixed the ingredients, uttered some Enochian and then suddenly Hannah as their.

 

“Hannah,” Cas stepped forward.  Dean protectively shot a hand out toward Cas.

 

“Castiel?”  Hannah said blinking.  She looked around and frowned.  “How?”

“You died,” Cas explained, “We brought you back.”

 

They all took a seat and explained it all, roughly, to Hannah (leaving Gabriel out of the conversation).  Hannah, for her part, seemed genuinely remorseful about the part she played in Cas’ torture and thus eager to make up for it by running interference with the next two angels.

 

“So this spell, it allows you to resurrect angels?”  Hannah asked.

 

“Yes, but only twenty,” Dean said.

 

“You should give it to me then,” Hannah said.  “I can resurrect the other angels.”

 

“No,” Cas said, just as Dean said, “Yes.”

 

“Hey, you said you trusted her,” Dean pointed out.  “And it isn’t as if we don't’ have a full plate ourselves.  We can leave this angel business with the angels.”

 

“I am an angel,” Cas pointed out.  

 

And Dean really wanted to retort that they needed him to help with Gabriel, but he couldn’t exactly bring that up, considering they agreed to keep the resurrected angels in the dark about Gabriel.  But Cas followed Dean’s gaze towards the bedrooms and seemed to catch his drift. So, with a sigh, Cas reluctantly agreed.

 

After Cas left the room, Dean pulled out his angel sword.  “We ready to do this?”

 

Sam gave Dean a look, but didn’t comment.  

 

“Who next?” Rowena asked.

 

“Samandriel,” Sam replied.

 

Moments later the ritual was complete and the angel in a teenager’s body was standing before them.

 

The angel looked down at his stomach, then slowly touched it.  “I felt myself die.”

 

“You did,” Sam explained.

 

“Sam and Dean brought you back, as they did for me too,” Hannah said stepping forward.

 

Samandriel gawked at her.  “Sister, what happened to your wings?”

 

“They burned in the fall,” Hannah said softly, holding up her hand as if to touch something behind Samandriel.  “That happened after your death. That must be why yours are still in tact.”

 

There was a heavy silence between the two for a moment.

 

“There's much to explain.  But we should bring back Rachel before I continue.”

 

“Okay,” Samandriel seemed to notice Sam and Dean for the first time.  “Cas! He’s in trouble. Naomi-”

 

“We know,” Sam said stepping forward, even as Dean tightened his grip on the blade.  “He was able to break free of her control in the end.”

 

“So he’s okay?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, good.”

 

“So you have no hard will about him ganking you?” Dean asked.

 

“No, that was Naomi’s fault.  He had no choice.” 

 

Sam and Dean shared a look.

 

“Something tells me Rachel’s going to see things a bit differently.”

 

Dean was right.  They needed both angels to calm her down and even then, Dean was pretty sure she would have attacked both him and Sam if it weren’t for the fact that they were the ones that resurrected her.

 

They managed to calm her down thought and explained the situation.  Both Rachel and Samandriel decided, in the end, to help Hannah resurrect the rest of the angels after a quick flight to the middle east to collect more fruit from the tree of life then return to heaven to set things back in order.

 

Dean was glad to see them leave.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it so far, comment below and let me know!


End file.
